Royal Imitation | Kylo Ren

Getaway Stars

When Kylo Ren helps me up from my place on the cold, hard, stone path, leveraging me up by clasping his big, leather hands around my wrists and pulling me to my feet, the needle of my moral compass swayed madly in different directions.

The tiny prick in my heart, didn't wish to draw to him, like he was a magnet to my silver, but it still dialled over and allowed him to help me up with no harsh words or remarks that would follow. 

It's daunting, the way the night had unfolded below the two, beaming moons above, which brought a warm, milky glow in the dark sky, as if the sight of it could become a song in the eyes of anyone willing to raise their head upwards – But as I got to my feet, I only glared to them, cursing at the night, rather than bellowing my concoction of fear and anger to the only one who had saved me from it.

I'm still stumbling slightly and when Kylo redirects me properly, ensuring that I didn't topple back to the ground in my slight intoxication, the nausea that swirled in the pit of my stomach and tried to defend the previous fear, cramped tightly in a sudden guilt. 

As he lead me away, I felt as if my confliction was pulling my mind left and right, stretching me thin and twisting my guts. Sure, Kylo Ren is a horrible man and has many powers which could kill or hurt me, but the Prince of Jorkhan had just tried to pierce my heart with a blade no sharper than the knife beneath my pillow, in what I assume to be, the attempts to gain the title of the future heir to Jorkhan – And Kylo was the one to stop him. 

A little, ignorant, voice in my head whispers to me that Kylo had only saved me to keep the alliance between The First Order and the Kingdom, but my heart swells so loudly and painfully in my chest that I shush that voice away. 

Just as Kylo Ren hooks his arm around my stained waist, I bend down to the ground, causing him to do the same with the furrow of those thick brows, and pick up the full wine bottle that Ruby had left lonesome.

When I swig the bottle to my lips, Kylo Ren doesn't stop me from doing so, and so he shouldn't; Tonight had been stressful enough, bitter or not, I needed this to stop the building anxiety which lingers in my chest, and  I needed it to subdue the confliction as I allowed his big hand to stay curled around my side, bringing a certain warmth to my prickled skin which stuck to the dried stain of wine that had split against me, moments before I had begged for blood to not replace it. 

On the walk back to the quarters, I dwell in the apprehension of laying in bed with Kylo for another nightmare-filled night. I chug more mouthfuls of the grotesque wine, unbothered by the way some, trickles out of my mouth and seeps down my chin – Most likely staining beside the tear tracks of my cheeks, like little curses of a reminder of the night. 

As if it had become my new coping mechanism, the atmosphere charged around me as Kylo cradled my hip to his own, swaying with my wobbly movements as he lead me to his quarters that had become my own. Charging with an evanescent haze, the wine was the real cause, but the musk that exuded off his chest and the hand that gripped and softened at my side, seemed to be the true form of intoxication to my system. 

What is happening to me?! My mind curses as my cheeks flush red. I knew all of these sudden emotions and sense of euphoria was just the wine gripping into my blood and taking over, but that didn't stop another wash of the tangy liquid from burning down my throat.

I felt like a flower, one resembling the last of the bushes as we climb slowly up the staircase, leaving the courtyards – Yes, a broken, struggling flower with thorns chopped off, and who had been fed too much alcohol, when indeed it craved water, but that couldn't nourish the twining cords that strangled the colour from the petals. 

But still, like any flower my petals turned to the light and currently and disturbingly, that had become Kylo Ren in the midst of my hazy world. Just as we reach the hardwood doors and he twists the golden handle to open it, I linger my gaze upon him in hopes that he doesn't notice the way my lips part towards him, in search for that cold demeanour which had seemed to thinly vanish into the air of tonight.